


this victory is mine, and yours

by thethirdheart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College, Competition, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Lack of Communication, MSBY Black Jackals - Freeform, Misunderstandings, No Angst, Post-Canon, Pro volleyball players, Romance, Schweiden Adlers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethirdheart/pseuds/thethirdheart
Summary: You’ve always attended Sakusa’s volleyball games without fail. So when Sakusa doesn’t tell you that he has another game with Schweiden Adlers this time, you were hurt to discover that you were the last to know. Naturally, you show up unannounced with Komori’s extra ticket, demanding to know why.
Relationships: Sakusa Kiyoomi/Original Female Character, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader
Comments: 38
Kudos: 563





	this victory is mine, and yours

**Komori Motoya**  
Hey Y/N, wish Sakusa good luck for me on his match, ok?  
_Read 13:32_

 **You**  
Match? There’s no match coming up as far as I know.  
_Read 13:43_

 **Komori Motoya**  
…? Black Jackals was supposed to have a match with Schweiden Adlers in a week, Y/N.  
_Read 13:45_

 **Komori Motoya**  
Did Sakusa not tell you?  
_Read 13:46_

 **You**  
He did not.  
_Read 13:48_

 **Komori Motoya**  
Oh.  
_Read 13:56_

 **Komori Motoya**  
Check your email. I sent you a ticket. There were invites from the league but I couldn’t have gone anyways since I have a match on the same day.  
_Delivered 14:15_

 **Komori Motoya**  
Well, you need it more than I do now.  
_Delivered 14:16_

 **Komori Motoya**  
He’s an idiot.  
_Delivered 14:19_

 _ **November, 2019**_

The Sendai arena was packed.

Unbidden, an image of Sakusa’s defensive posture, surreptitiously parked in an inconspicuous corner of the arena space, elicits a laugh out of you. You almost forget that you only found out about this game a week ago, from Komori, no less. You almost forget the unnerving thought that maybe, just maybe, Sakusa can win without you.

It sounds stupidly presumptuous to think that your presence could somehow affect the outcome of any game. You’ve only started attending Sakusa’s games at the end of second year in high school, after Itachiyama suffered their first loss against Inarizaki High school. Admittedly, the loss did little to dent the reputation of the school as a whole, because Itachiyama was by far Japan’s strongest sports academy; of course the volleyball team was not the only team that excelled. 

However, this was Captain Iizuna‘s last year to participate in the Spring Nationals. No doubt he took the loss to heart, and the image of him being supported out of the court with one bandaged, shoeless ankle, crying so hard that his eyes were pinched shut during the entire awards ceremony, made quite an unforgettable impression. 

Sakusa had only played for two years at that point, so he had at least two more shots at reclaiming Itachiyama Volleyball Club’s reputation the following year. 

In the blank period between mid-semester and the new year, you started getting to know both him and Komori more. All three of you shared the same college-preparatory class. Through a fated end-of-term group project where the teacher drew lots to select group members, you discovered their flawless work ethic, both on and off the court. It may be harsh, but you’d always harboured prejudice against jocks; they were usually attractive, and either dumb, or smart enough to know their worth, and flaunt their inflated sense of ego. 

Sakusa and Komori could not be farther from your perception of the jock stereotype. Komori greeted everyone in class with a sunny smile that could put the grouchiest Grinch in a decent mood, which was useful for and against Sakusa’s case. 

On the flip side, Sakusa, though generally reticent and withdrawn from the general majority outside of volleyball and academics, was quiet and spoke when necessary. He exuded an intimidating air, but once you spent more time with him, it was apparent that he wasn’t scary. As long as you obeyed the boundaries of his personal space. Also, the fact that they both kept decent grades atop their extensive involvement in sports was a bonus. 

You weren’t the biggest sports nerd, but you knew enough basics about volleyball to understand Sakusa and Komori’s post-group-meeting squabbles about volleyball. You came for the group project and stayed for the sense of comradery. It was clear to any bystander that both student athletes were passionate about the sport. Komori just showed it more readily and voluntarily shared tidbits about their team, while Sakusa maintained his silent demeanour; though you occasionally caught him staring intently between you and Komori, as though he wanted to join the conversation, but didn’t quite know how. 

Nobody but Komori in your class ever did dare to approach Sakusa directly; they almost always intercepted Komori first, treating him as a buffer. Despite Komori’s attempts to paint his teammate in a more favourable light, none of your classmates ever did manage to engage with Sakusa. The two students were, at best, considered celebrities in your grade; at worst… beanpoles with muscles. 

In any case, Sakusa didn’t outwardly project a welcoming aura, so you, like the rest of common folk, went about the ubiquity of school life, unknowingly deprived of excitements such as volleyball practice and regular interactions with attractive senior athletes. 

As if Sakusa’s aloofness, height, and curly hair wasn’t already a magnet for female attention. Female students from younger and older grades were definitely interested, even if their rose-tinted glasses picked up on Sakusa’s disinterest in girls. You yourself have always wondered if he ever liked somebody, girl or boy; did he swing the other way? 

All those musings came to a screeching halt after Sakusa – 189 cm, frowning, curly haired, germaphobic, frowning Sakusa – offered you one of his face mask. 

To quote, "the weather sucks today, wear a mask so you don’t accumulate particulate matter in your lungs". Meanwhile in the background, Komori convulsed with laughter. Sakusa shot him a dirty look. 

Flattered, but also slightly alarmed, you accepted the mask, careful to avoid touching his fingers directly. If Komori’s stories about Sakusa’s germaphobic tendencies held any grain of truth, you didn’t want to ruin the moment by being inconsiderate. 

You appreciated his kind gesture, and the material of the mask certainly did not feel cheap. The mask remained in your backpack for the better part of two days, before you set foot outdoors and reflexively winced at the smoky air. The warm temperature, combined with the high humidity, resulted in a smoggier atmosphere than usual. As you pulled the thin, white material across your face, you discovered, with pleasant surprise, that the fabric was breathable and light. Totally unlike school-mandated masks that you wore back in junior high; the perspiration from your exhalations was minimal, and the material did not feel abrasive or stuck against your sensitive skin. 

_**20 minutes after arrival** _

Heaving loudly, you finally entered the stadium. The bright lights and animated chatter from other attendees did not faze you anymore; the first time you were invited to a volleyball game, you had felt extremely out of place. You even empathized with Sakusa’s hatred of crowds, being an introvert yourself. 

Now, you deftly weaved in and out of people, arriving at your assigned seat with less than five minutes to spare. The last-minute ticket Komori emailed to you didn’t afford you a close-enough view of the players – a certain left outside hitter, to be precise; but you would still be able to see the entirety of the court and its players. 

"… Kageyama Tobio!" The MC roared enthusiastically. Since this was a game sponsored by the host team, you knew that the Black Jackals would not be introduced individually on court. 

However, you weren’t paying attention to the opposing team introductions; you only had eyes for one person. The Black Jackals were loosely huddled together by the benches, at various stages of warming up. Among them, Sakusa had a vaguely disgusted expression, directed towards the team setter, Miya Atsumu. There was a shorter player that you didn’t recognize, with vibrant orange hair, grinning widely at them both. You wondered if he was the mysterious new recruit that joined a year ago from Brazil. 

Normally, you might have already met the new member in person already, especially since this was his first game with the team. Additionally, your good graces with the league would earn you a seat closer to the court – no fault of Komori’s, he did his best. And just before the match, you would have exchanged a good luck and get a mumbled "thanks" in response. Pre-game Sakusa was never nervous, not in the years you attended his games, but you knew he appreciated your efforts to become more involved in his passion nonetheless. 

The screams spiked in volume as the athletes began volleying out their own signed Mikasa balls to the audience. There were brief scuffles in which the people around you stood up to catch one, blocking your view. You rolled your eyes – God knows you had a sizable collection of Sakusa’s signed balls at home, and you were way past the fangirl phase that plagued you during Sakusa’s first year at a Division 1 volleyball league team. 

When the girl before you sat down just in time for Black Jackals to serve, you automatically locked onto Sakusa. As always, he served with probably 5% effort, though the shrieks that ensued in the aftermath would claim otherwise. You snickered again, gaze wandering to the other side of the net. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi caught your eye this time. How could he not? Sakusa rarely spared compliments to his teammates, less so opponents. But Ushijima – or as Sakusa referred, Wakatoshi-kun – was a special case. He was only a year older than Sakusa, and somehow ensnared Sakusa’s attention way back in second year. If Sakusa showed any visible excitement, it was through frequent mentions of Ushijima’s performance. He never outright praised Ushijima, but from how many times he mentioned the latter, it might as well be his own brand of fanboying. 

You didn’t completely understand their relationship; at some point you even questioned Sakusa’s sexual preferences due to its ambiguity. You could tell Sakusa respected the older player. Maybe there was some element of the physical game that reinforced Sakusa’s feelings of rivalry with Ushijima, but you weren’t sure. Or maybe boys were just being boys. 

What you did know was that after Sakusa’s loss to Ushijima in the Kurowashiki finals, he had a difficult time accepting the results. He confined himself in the apartment for a solid month. A solid month of deep cleaning, until every surface was shining. 

You couldn’t stop his coping mechanisms, but you did your best. You brought him out on walks (during quiet parts of the day), made his favourite food, watched movies together, even convincing Komori to visit. 

With Sakusa, you knew he just needed time. And you were prepared to give him any that you could afford to share. If he wanted to be alone, you backed away and focused on work. If he wanted to clean, you recognized and acknowledged his efforts by helping out. 

The siren blared, indicating the start of the game, and your musings were brought to a halt as the game began. 

_**September, 2014** _

A boom echoed through the stadium, the ball rebounding and flying so high that it ended up in the uppermost section of the bleachers. 

You heard the sound first before you were able to trace the ball’s trajectory with your own eyes. Was it out? 

The crowd roared. On your side of the net, the rest of Itachiyama gathered around Sakusa, lifting him high in the air. They had won, 2-0. 

Sakusa had delivered the last spike. You had been absolutely blown away by the power of his smash; it didn’t seem human. At the back of your mind, you recalled Komori telling you that Sakusa was ranked within the top three of Japan’s high school aces. Seeing him in action, you felt your skepticism fade away. 

At Komori’s behest, you had agreed to attend one of Itachiyama’s practice matches with one of the neighbouring schools. He told you that compared to official matches, a practice game was low key: there were no mascots cheering on the sidelines for either teams, and most of the attendees would be volleyball club members. Maybe a handful of fan girls. 

Lies, all of them. 

Speaking of fan girls, the ear-splitting screams behind you were starting to wear at your fraying nerves. They even had a chant going on. You were amazed at their commitment. 

"Isn’t Sakusa dreamy?"

"He’s so tall and cool!"

"Tall, cool, good-looking AND smart!"

"I’d climb him like a tree…"

You’d nodded in agreement to all of the above, until the last comment that made you choke. You’d like to see them try in the face of Sakusa’s distaste for physical contact. 

People dispersed as the players began to put away equipment. You were about to leave as well, when Komori called for you. 

He waved from the court, and beside him was Sakusa, who stood ramrod straight, gaze pinpointed on you. You were a little nervous, a lot out of your comfort zone, but you mustered your courage and made your way to them. You should congratulate them both anyway, as a classmate. 

"Congratulations on your win! You both were so fast, and the ball seemed to disappear back and forth, I didn’t know where to look most of the time." You said sheepishly to a beaming Komori. 

"Thanks! It was a good game. You’ll get the hang of it once you go to more games."

You doubted they would invite you to future games; it was a shame, since volleyball was becoming interesting now that you had the chance to see it in action. 

Komori turned to Sakusa expectantly. A few seconds of silence passed. 

Komori jabbed an elbow into his friend’s side. Sakusa flinched. 

"We… we won." He blurted the obvious. 

You cocked your head to the side, nonplussed. For once, Komori looked impatient, running his hand down his face in a frustrated manner. Sakusa didn’t elaborate further, and the atmosphere became more awkward. 

Komori sighed. “What did you say you’d do when we won, Sakusa?” He prompted.

You had no idea what was happening, except the inkling that there was a hidden conversation going on between the two boys before you. They were making shifty eyes at each other. Sakusa’s lips were pinched tight. He looked as though he were constipated, like he was holding back words. But you had a gut feeling that he was going to say something really important and relevant – something to do with you – so you stayed there and waited. 

One breath. Two. Three-

"We won, so… will you go out with me, Y/N?"

How could you bear to say no to a tall, cool, good-looking, smart, and climbable prospect of a boyfriend? 

_**November, 2019** _

At one point, you regretted not being able to hold back, standing up and yelling, "GO KIYOOMI!" when it was his turn to serve. 

You did not regret his reaction though. His raised eyebrows and subsequent glare were priceless. An irrational part of you signed in relief when your momentary distraction didn’t mess up his serve, though to claim that you – a mere mortal – could influence Sakusa’s prodigal performance on the court was the height of presumptuousness. 

Presumptuous or not, you were still granted permission to enter Black Jackal’s change rooms after the game. Fortunately, Coach Foster had also noticed you during the match. He out of everyone in Black Jackal probably understood Sakusa best (after you and Komori). 

Even though the match was over awhile ago, spirits still ran high. You felt more than heard the rambunctious activity a few meters shy of reaching the door. As you knocked, you considered your emotions; were you angry? Were you happy for them? Or were you overthinking as usual? Hopefully seeing Sakusa would shed some light. 

No sooner than a few seconds later, the door swung open and revealed player No. 12, Bokuto.

"Hey hey hey! If it isn’t Y/N! Sakusa, get over here!" For once, you were thankful for Bokuto’s tactlessness. 

You looked at Sakusa, who had already showered and changed into regular clothes. He stared back at you, his gaze unreadable. At most, the furrow between his eyebrows was a force of habit, rather than an expression of genuine discontent, so you hedged your bets on him not yet recovering from the shock of seeing you in Sendai. 

Inspired, you dangled the ticket, hoping to provoke an actual change in expression. “Hi Kiyoomi, a little bird – well, more like a five feet eleven libero – told me that Black Jackals had a game today. I wonder why you never told me.”

The chaos in the change room had abated somewhat in the wake of your arrival, but now dissipated completely as the players looked between you and Sakusa. Some of them, who may not know of your relationship with their outside hitter, seemed quite shaken by the presence of a female in their post-game, testosterone-filled vicinity. 

Sakusa probably reached that conclusion at the same time, because he reached you in three strides, and with a firm grip on your wrist, pulled you out of the room. During your exit, you thought you heard a suggestive comment from Miya, but you forgot as soon as Sakusa guided you to a reclusive corner, safe from prying eyes and ears. How characteristic of him. 

Sakusa turned to you, the furrow between his eyes now slightly relaxed. With his mask obscuring more than 50% of his face, you had yet again a hard time divining his mood. 

"Why are you here?" He asked flatly. 

Ok, he needed more context. Fine.  


"I always attend your games. Do you not want me to, anymore?" You fired back another question. 

"That’s not what I said."

Sakusa’s thing with conversations was his propensity for single-sentence answers. Unless you prodded at him continuously, he did not deign to respond completely. But this time, you were not in a mood to prod, because from the way this conversation was going, he seemed to blame you for coming. Like it was your fault for following the norm, when he was not communicating properly. You knew he knew he was the one who should explain himself, so you waited, crossing your arms. Patience always won out, and you had plenty of time to build up patience over the past few years with Sakusa. 

A lengthy pause elapsed. Then Sakusa sighed, the sound slightly muffled by the mask. Jackpot. 

"… Didn’t want you to see me lose, _again_ ," he threw out the last word bitterly. "and with Wakatoshi-kun, his team is almost always guaranteed victory."

You were silent for a bit, replaying his words in your mind. He sounded defeated, which was understandable. What you couldn’t figure out was why. 

At first, you fixated on the second part of his response. Whatever you expected, you did not expect the self-debilitating confession. Sure, Sakusa held Ushijima at a high pedestal, but to the point of saying that his team would always win? Sakusa was smart, enough so to know his team and his personal limits; he wasn’t the hotheaded type, like most of his peers in high school, who made loud and proud promises of achieving victory despite the odds stacked against them. There was a stark difference between hyping up the crowd, and sheer ignorance. 

But he didn’t want you to see him lose. Seems like the issue has less to do with the actual results, and more with personal pride. Specifically, you witnessing his loss, a repeat of Kurowashiki a year prior. 

"Kiyoomi, do you honestly think I care whether you win or lose? Did you play volleyball to win, or did you play because you enjoy it?" You decided to be dole out the real questions, because Sakusa dealt best with straightforwardness, not wishy-washy words of consolation. He was independent, with no need for indulgent coddling. 

"I play volleyball for both, and the best outcome to me is when I get enjoy victory. But if you’re there, I feel like I should always win."

You stared at him, gobsmacked. 

"Why?"

Sakusa frowned harder, looking away. "Well… because… it’s…"

Why was he hesitating? He should know you would never judge him, no matter what. Anyway, you’d much prefer seeing his full face. Taking advantage of his lapse in finding the right words, you stepped forward to cover the distance between you both. Carefully, you removed one strap of the mask, letting it dangle from one side. He could replace it if he wanted to; but you wanted to see his face, even for a brief moment. 

You weren’t surprised to see his downturned lip. You had half a mind to stretch it upwards, but you refrained, considering the situation. Under better circumstances, you would touch him in the privacy of your shared apartment, after food, after you’ve showered and sanitized your hands. Not now, in a sketchy corner of a gigantic stadium, when he was feeling most vulnerable. 

"If you’re ashamed for losing in front of me, I’m going to tell you to stop thinking that. You know I never cared either way whether you win or lose, though I enjoy seeing your victory face," you smiled thinly. The so-called _victory face_ wasn’t expressive by Sakusa standards; the sight of him holding up a fist in victory while maintaining a neutral countenance was secretly funny. Ugh. Don’t get distracted. "I don’t want absolute victory; I want your happiness. I know you’re happy when I show up at your games, so I’ll keep supporting you, no matter what."

The words sounded differently in your head. To you, they sounded cheesy. But Sakusa is as immune to social subtleties as he is good at spiking, which is saying something. 

"Even if you asked me out for the first time after winning a practice match, victory doesn’t matter to me."

You watched him think. Another interesting trait about Sakusa was his weirdly expressive eyebrows and how fast they twitched, even in stillness. They quivered now. 

Finally, after a few breaths, his rigid posture relaxed. He’d reached some sort of conclusion. A positive one, you hoped. Your heart pounded so strongly it wouldn’t be surprising if he felt it too. 

Suddenly, his arms banded around your waist tightly, causing you to jump. Before you could say anything else, Sakusa tugged you further into his broad frame, your face burrowed into his collarbones. You would take this opportunity to feel him up had it been under more appropriate circumstances; but you had to be content with the contact. He rarely hugged you first since you often initiated. This was a welcome surprise. He knew how much you loved hugs. 

Smiling, you enclosed your smaller arms around his midriff. 

"It’s dumb. I don’t play for anyone’s approval," he muttered. You hugged him tighter, feeling the rumbles of his voice under your cheek. "But when we win, you make a face like I gave you one of my good masks. I just. I want to keep seeing it, I guess."

"You know I didn’t patronize you when you lost against Ushijima last time, right?" He grunted in assent. "Yeah. So. Don’t start hiding your matches from me ever again, okay." It was adorable that he wanted to win for your sake, but you never cared for trivialities such as winning or losing. For you, being by his side and cheering him on was one of your greatest pleasures; you couldn’t ask for more to be happier. 

Reluctantly, he nodded. 

"Good!" You got on your tiptoes and leaned up – a valiant effort, for someone nearly a head taller than you – to peck his cheek. You’d ask him for a proper kiss, but Sakusa didn’t do kisses unless he felt very comfortable. Namely, in private. 

Well, today was a day full of surprises. 

He turned his head at the last second, and you made contact with his lips instead. Not that you were complaining as you instinctively pressed up further. Sakusa accommodated you by tugging you higher in his arms, your toes now lifted off the floor. He responded equally as firmly, and you could tell that he missed you as much as you missed him this past week. If you had to label how Sakusa kissed: it was _clean_. He didn’t waste time being extra and sloppy: each tug, push, pull followed a pace that suited you both just fine. His fingers dug deeper into your waist, pulling you closer against his front. 

By the time you realized you were having trouble breathing, Sakusa broke off the kiss and trailed his mouth to your jaw, nibbling lightly. You shivered, still not quite used to him being this touchy and forward. 

"Ugh, now I have more germs in me." Sakusa complained. 

You laughed, only half-offended, arching as he continued his downward descent into your neck. You were already desensitized to his casual reference of everyone, including you, as germs. He wasn’t being serious, at any rate. 

His next words made you guffaw louder. Classic Sakusa. 

"We’ll have to take another shower together."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Please leave a comment if you can :)


End file.
